Rodeo
by Survivor88
Summary: A representation of Elliot, Kathy, and SVU


I got this fic idea from listening to an old Garth Brooks CD. It sort of a representation of Elliot, Kathy, and SVU. Let me know what you think- BTW: It's a simple one-chapter.

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_His eyes are cold and restless  
His wounds have almost healed  
And she'd give half of Texas  
Just to change the way he feels  
She knows his love's in Tulsa  
And she knows he's gonna go  
Well, it ain't no woman, flesh and blood  
It's that damned old rodeo _

Well, it's bulls and blood  
It's dust and mud  
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd  
It's the white in his knuckles  
The gold in the buckle  
He'll win the next go 'round  
It's boots and chaps  
It's cowboy hats  
It's spurs and latigo  
It's the ropes and the reins  
And the joy and the pain  
And they call the thing rodeo

She does her best to hold him  
When his love comes to call  
But his need for it controls him  
And her back's against the wall  
And it's "So long girl, I'll see you"  
When it's time for him to go  
You know the woman wants her cowboy  
Like he wants his rodeo

Well, it's bulls and blood  
It's dust and mud  
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd  
It's the white in his knuckles  
The gold in the buckle  
He'll win the next go 'round  
It's boots and chaps  
It's cowboy hats  
It's spurs and latigo  
It's the ropes and the reins  
And the joy and the pain  
And they call the thing rodeo

It'll drive a cowboy crazy  
It'll drive the man insane  
And he'll sell off everything he owns  
Just to pay to play her game  
And a broken home and some broken bones  
Is all he'll have to show  
For all the years that he spent chasin'  
This dream they call rodeo

Well, it's bulls and blood  
It's dust and mud  
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd  
It's the white in his knuckles  
The gold in the buckle  
He'll win the next go 'round  
It's boots and chaps  
It's cowboy hats  
It's spurs and latigo  
It's the ropes and the reins  
And the joy and the pain  
And they call the thing rodeo

It's the broncs and the blood  
It's the steers and the mud  
And they call the thing rodeo

His breathing quickens as the ring tone of his cell phone registers in his right ear. He feels the pain in his ribs from a previous case, one in which a perp eluded his grasp and punched him, hard.

Despite this he stirs, his blood pumps in to his ears as he flips the phone open.

"Stabler"

"We've got another case, Broadway and 47th."

"OK, see ya in 30."

By this time she's up too, his movement and the phone pulling her to the darkness of reality.

"Elliot?" she whispers reaching out her hand to his.

"I gotta go, 'nother case. Call ya later."

He keeps it brief, kissing her cheek quickly he walks from the dark bedroom. First stop is for coffee, the next is the car.

That's the last thing that she hears, his engine coming to life and then the sound of the accelerator as he pulls out. Her heart hurts, but her mind tells her to be annoyed. She knows that it's not Olivia he's going to, but that damned job. Late at night.

She also knows there's nothing she can do about it, she is powerless in this area of his life.

His life used to be with hers too. Now his job has become his life.

For the first time in a month he was on time for dinner, really he was actually home and no one could believe. The kids swarmed around him and he was fun but always there was that distant span in his gaze, the one that she knew meant his mind was on the job.

But again, this was out of her control. Because the job controlled him and she did not. Always late at night his captain would call and always he had to go.

It was the need to help kids. It was the need to make sure his children could and would be safer. Yet it was also the adrenaline rush he was addicted to, that feeling he got when a new lead opened up, or a suspect looked good as the perpetrator. SVU is like his drug of choice and she wished he'd kick the habit.

If this habit was somehow taken from him or kept from him she knew he would go crazy, he

has before because she's seen him when the captain bumped him from cases and took his piece and badge. A fire flared in his eye and he was like a caged animal.

She packs a bag on this early Saturday morning, her clothes and other neccesities. Their children are stirring, she tells them to pack as well and ignores their protests and curiousity.

Now all he'll have left is a building with his belongings and that damned job.

But it's what she wants and her freedom is the one thing she refuses to allow him to control anymore.

The job might control him, but she wont let it control her... not anymore...

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Love feedback like always. :- ) 


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